To Feel The Wind
by Anniewriter
Summary: All he wanted was to feel the wind on his face, the rain in his hair, the snow in his hands... but going outside was forbidden for Harry Potter. That was until someone from the wizarding world finally finds out about his situation.
1. Prologue

**Preface**

He took a few steps out the door and breathed in the fresh air for the first time in years. He stared up at the sky before closing his eyes. The wind felt good on his skin, the heat of the sun warmed his bare arms and face. He turned to look at his saviour and smiled gratefully.

"Thank you," he whispered.

* * *

Harry James Potter peered out the window and stared outside where it was currently raining. Oh how he wished he could feel the rain on his skin. From what he understood, most people didn't like the rain. His Uncle Vernon usually complained on these days and it usually put his Aunt Petunia in a bad mood. He sighed, he had never had the luxury to discover whether or not he disliked the rain, or the snow, or the sunshine... for that matter.

For as long as he could remember, he was kept in the house. He was allowed to go anywhere he wanted inside, he could even watch the telly if he wanted, but he was forbidden from going outside. If the Dursley's had company, he was to stay inside his cupboard and not make a sound. No one could know that he existed... and he didn't understand why.

His Aunt, Uncle and Cousin Dudley left the house throughout the day, if he was left alone, he was locked in the cupboard. There were many times when he wished that they would forget to lock him in so he could sneak into the back yard. He wanted to know what it was like to smell fresh air outside instead of through the window.

He sighed and turned back to the dishes. The family had just finished dinner, one of his duties was to clean the kitchen afterwards. If did all his chores properly, he was allowed to do what he wanted, as long as it was inside. He planned to watch the telly with his aunt and uncle. This was the only time he could experience what 'outside' was really like.

As he finished the last of the dishes, he heard someone come into the kitchen. He turned to look at his overweight, purple faced uncle.

"Hurry up boy, we have a meeting with Dudley's school teacher. You'll have to spend the night in your cupboard," Uncle Vernon said.

Harry turned away to hide his disappointment. He quickly stacked the dishes into the cupboard and then he climbed off the chair and pushed it back to the table. He flinched as his uncle grabbed a hold of his arm. He wasn't hit a lot, but when he was, he was usually sore for days afterwards. Normally the man didn't touch him unless he was going to get a beating. However, this time the man just hurried him from the kitchen and into the hallway. His aunt and cousin were by the front door, getting ready to leave.

"Come on Dudders, get your shoes on," Aunt Petunia was saying.

"Why do we always have to have parent teachers night?" Uncle Vernon asked as he shoved Harry into the cupboard under the stairs. "Aren't report cards enough?"

"I don't know," Aunt Petunia answered as Uncle Vernon shut the cupboard door, leaving Harry in darkness. "This is a new teacher though, perhaps she'll be better than Dudley's last two."

Harry sighed. He felt very envious of his cousin, who was seven, the same age as he was. Dudley had started school two years ago, and was usually gone during the day, except during weekends, summer or other holidays. He wished he could go to school as well. He knew that the boy went there to learn how to read, write and have fun. He wanted to learn as well.

On some days, if his aunt was feeling generous, she would teach him something. She had taught him how to spell his full name, and how to add, but Aunt Petunia didn't have much patience. Most of what he knew was from the early morning educational shows. He knew his alphabet, his colours, his numbers, the days of the week, the months, and a few other things. However, what he wanted to learn most of all was to _read_. He only knew how to read: _Harry James Potter_ and that was it.

Why couldn't he just go with Dudley to learn? Why couldn't he go outside? Sometimes he wished he would feel very sick so that he could go to the hospital (a place Dudley sometimes went), however, he'd never been sick enough to go. That was according to his aunt and uncle anyway... there were times when he caught something from his cousin that left him sick in his cupboard for weeks.

Lost in his thoughts, he jumped when the front door slammed. He waited for a few minutes before he tried the door of his cupboard, maybe his uncle forgot to lock the door. He sighed sadly when the door wouldn't budge. He didn't want to cry, according to his uncle, crying was a sign of weakness. However, he couldn't help it. Why couldn't he have a normal life like other children?

Was is because sometimes he did really odd things that defied logic?

* * *

A/N: You'll find out later why Mrs. Figg hasn't said anything to Dumbledore about never seeing Harry. And why he didn't do anything sooner. So if you're wondering about that, hold your questions for a bit please. Hope you enjoyed please read and review.

Right now I am trying to find out more about a child being stuck inside all the time because I think it will make Harry get sick easier once he goes outside more. I'm not really sure about it right now, but if someone knows, let me know. I am pretty sure I read some where that it can make a person more vulnerable though.


	2. A normal family

**November 2 1981**

Petunia Dursley opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, just as she did every morning. However, this time she was shocked to find a small bundle on the door step. She let out a scream when she realized that it was a baby. It wasn't every day you found a baby sleeping on your door step after all. Once she recovered, she stooped down to lift him into her arms. By that point, she didn't realize that it was her baby nephew.

Hearing her scream, Vernon Dursley had hurried from the kitchen, and down the hallway to the front door to investigate. When he reached her, Petunia was just pulling the envelope out of the babies hand. By that point, little Harry had opened his eyes. When she gazed into his eyes, she knew exactly who the baby was. Hadn't her sister sent enough pictures of little Harry over the past year?

"Whose baby is that?" Vernon asked as Petunia stepped back into the house.

"Lily's," she answered in disgust.

"But what is he doing here?" Vernon asked.

He looked very uneasy but Petunia remembered the day before when strange things were happening all over the country. Hadn't Vernon mentioned that there had been shooting stars and owls on the news? Didn't he say that he'd seen funny-looking people in town? He'd asked her if she'd heard anything from her sister because of all that. She looked down at the letter in her hand again. Had something happened to her sister and husband?

"Could you take him for a moment please?" Petunia asked and shifted Harry over to her husband.

"I don't want to touch it," Vernon said as he glared at the baby.

"Oh don't be ridiculous, he's just a baby. Please just take him into the kitchen and see if he's hungry," Petunia snapped.

So far, Harry hadn't made a sound. Vernon reached for the baby but he didn't hold him carefully the way he would with their baby son Dudley. He held him underneath the arms so that the blanket he'd been wrapped in fell to the floor. He carried the boy to the kitchen holding him arms length away.

"We don't have an extra high chair for this thing, how am I supposed to feed it?" Vernon asked, pausing in the hallway.

"Just sit him on your lap. Give him some of Dudley's cereal," Petunia answered as she opened the envelope. "He is a _baby_ Vernon, relax."

Of course she wasn't happy that he was there either, but Vernon was acting as if he was some diseased animal. She was sure Harry would have the same abnormal powers as his parents, but still... he was a baby. Even though she had never wanted to meet him, and she felt some resentment for the child, it didn't mean that they should be treating him the way Vernon was. She rolled her eyes at her husband when he grimaced, but he did as she said.

Once he was gone, she pulled a strange thick piece of paper out of the envelope... it was an old fashioned kind of paper that Lily's kind used. She hoped that the letter was asking that they take care of the baby temporarily... but no, it asked that they take him in and raise him as their own child. The man Dumbledore (who she had once written to, though she wanted to deny it) explained that Lily and her husband James had been murdered Halloween night. Apparently, Lily had sacrificed herself so Harry would live. If Petunia took the baby in, it would not only protect her family but Harry (because she was a blood relative) from the man who had tried to kill the boy in the first place.

There were more details in the letter that she didn't understand... that she didn't want to understand. The only part she really did understand was the fact that she had to raise this wizarding child as her own. If she didn't, he could die. This angered her, she didn't want to raise a magical child. Hadn't she made a life for herself away from all that? How was she supposed to raise a child she'd never wanted to meet as her own?

And yet, she couldn't throw him to the wolves... and she was sure that the Dumbledore man knew that.

She would take him in, but they would not raise him as their own, she would not love him, and further more, he wouldn't know anything about that world. She squared her shoulders and went to the kitchen to explain the situation to Vernon. Yes, Harry Potter could stay with them, but they were going to squash the magic out of him.

They decided that they weren't going to waste one of the extra two bedrooms for him either. There was enough space in the cupboard under the stairs for him to sleep in.

**November 16****th**** 1981**

Harry missed his parents. For the first couple weeks that he lived with the Dursley's, they had to put up with his wailing. It wasn't because he was a fussy baby, on the contrary, most of the time he kept to himself and he was quiet. It was at bedtime and in the mornings when he would call out for them. It was easier to ignore him at night because they could just lock him up and he'd cry himself to sleep.

However, in the mornings he would throw temper tantrums... and they were not normal ones children usually threw. He would do something that defied logic, and there wasn't much that Petunia and Vernon could do about it. They had both agreed on his first day that he would never know about magic, however, they weren't sure how to stop the baby from doing it because he wasn't doing it on purpose.

"We'll just have to ignore it for now," Petunia told Vernon the morning of the sixteenth. "I've caught him doing it on purpose a few times now. I scolded him, and locked him up. I think he's slowly starting to understand that. I remember that Lily told me sometimes kids do things without meaning to when they have that abnormalcy. Right now he is too young to understand... but when he is older-"

"I'll beat it out of it," Vernon said with a nod. "Eventually it'll go to school, it can't be doing that in front of the other kids."

However, that day would change everything. Petunia and Vernon had every intention of raising Harry as normal as possible. He wouldn't be loved the same way Dudley would, but he'd be just like any other boy. The neighbours who knew by then that he was there would believe he was nothing but a normal little boy. It was the life the Dursley's would have, and nothing Harry did would change that.

After his first day with them, Vernon had gone out and found an old high chair just for Harry. It wasn't very sturdy, and it was broken, but he didn't care because it was free. On the morning of the discussion, after Harry had calmed down, Petunia put him in his high chair and gave him the usual dry cereal. As usual, she gossiped about the neighbours before telling Vernon what she would do with the boys during the day.

The Dursley's morning routine hadn't really changed since the fateful day when Harry arrived on their doorstep. At half past eight, Vernon picked up his briefcase, and he gave Petunia a kiss on the cheek as usual. Dudley was busy throwing cheerio's at his cousin, but paused when his father gave him the usual kiss on the cheek. Harry was the only one who Vernon didn't show any affection for. Though he was still very young, he did notice this.

"Uh," Harry grunted that morning, there were still tear streaks on his face from the temper tantrum.

"What do you want?" Vernon barked at him.

"Me!" Harry answered and he held out a hand to his uncle.

Vernon just shook his head in disgust and left the room, not caring that his nephew began to cry again. The little boy wasn't used to being ignored. Before he arrived at the Dursley's, he'd always been shown a lot of affection and love.

"What is your problem now?" Petunia snapped after Vernon was gone.

"Mama," Harry said, "dada!"

"Oh get over it already," she muttered as she started to clean up.

After the kitchen was cleaned, she decided to take the boys out to the back yard. It was an unusual warm November day, and she figured they should all enjoy it while it lasted. She took Harry outside first, leaving Dudley in his high chair. Harry likely wouldn't go far, but Dudley would. Her nephew usually stayed put.

Once she had both boys outside along with a few toys, she sat herself down in a chair to watch them. They automatically got into a fight over a toy truck. Dudley was very possessive over his toys, and he wasn't happy that he had to share with his cousin. Harry however wanted to play with the toys, so he would fight back. They played tug of war with the truck momentarily before it suddenly levitated into the air. Harry had his hand pointed up, so he was obviously controlling its progress.

"How in the world is he doing that?"

Petunia had been ready to scold Harry for doing magic, but jumped when she heard the voice. Her neighbour, Alana Young had just come into the backyard. She was still far enough away that Petunia hoped she could lie about what happened. The truck was on the ground again.

"What do you mean?" Petunia asked as Alana made her way over. "They threw it in the air."

"It looked like he was making it fly..." Alana said, she was beside Petunia now.

Petunia gave her the best disapproving look she could.

"Of course he wasn't making it fly. I don't know what you think you saw, but my nephew threw it in the air. The boys always get like this. Dudley isn't used to sharing."

Alana stared at the truck, which Dudley had managed to get back. Harry was now crying but luckily he didn't do anything that would cause suspicion again.

"I suppose so... from back there it looked like it was flying. I didn't get much sleep last night though. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to have tea later this afternoon," Alana said. "I thought you'd be interested to know that Maria's daughter is pregnant."

In normal circumstances, Petunia would be delighted to hear such news. Maria's daughter was only fourteen-years old. However, at that moment, all she wanted to do was say good-bye to Alana and get the boys inside.

"Come around two," Petunia said. "The boys will be napping then."

---

Later that evening, Petunia told Vernon about what had happened with the boys that morning. When Vernon learned that one of their neighbours had seen the magic, his face went purple, as it usually did when he was angry.

"This is more serious than we thought... I can't do this Petunia. I don't want people to know about those freaky powers. It's gone. I'll look around for a good orphanage, in the meantime, keep it inside."

Petunia remembered the letter that Dumbledore had written though... she didn't want Harry to be in danger. And a plan formed in her. Already they weren't going to let the boy go to the freaky school, so how would any of the wizards know what happened to him? As long as he could call their place 'home' he was safe. They could tell the neighbours that he was gone to another relatives, but keep him inside so no one saw him. They wouldn't be able to send him to school if he was going to have magical outbursts anyway.

She quickly told Vernon her plan. He could stay with him, but he would never be allowed outside where the neighbours would see him again. Their biggest challenge would be to have Dudley in on the secret when he was older.

"I don't know..." Vernon said.

"We can't send him away," Petunia said. "As long as he calls this place home, he is safe and so are we."

"To be honest with you, I don't really give a damn if some psycho kills that thing," Vernon said. "I don't know why you do."

She wasn't sure herself either. All she knew was that even though she resented what he was, she couldn't just put him in danger. However, they couldn't let people see him either. The best option was to keep him, but never to let anyone know that they had him. It would be a few years before Dudley started school, and she was sure that by then they could get him to understand that he couldn't talk about Harry.

She also reasoned that if they took him to an orphanage, he could do the strange powers, and that would probably end him up in a psych ward. She didn't want that for him either. She didn't know why she wanted to keep him safe, but she did.

After discussing it longer, they decided he would stay but he would never go outside again. They would pretend to the outside public that he no longer existed. The next day, Petunia would tell Alana that Harry was too much of a troublemaker, so she'd sent him away. Alana was a bigger gossiper in the neighbourhood than she was. Everyone, including the crazy cat lady, Mrs. Figg would know the story by the end of the week.

* * *

Their plan worked out better than they thought. After a while, the neighbours forgot that the Dursley's had taken in their nephew. The only person who seemed concerned about it was Arabella Figg... who was supposed to spy on the Dursley's for Dumbledore.

Of course she let him know as soon as she heard the news that the Dursley's gave up on him. The wizard was upset by this information, and would spend the next few years trying to find out where Harry was sent. He knew that Petunia didn't have any other living blood relatives, so he assumed that the boy was sent to an orphanage.

Minerva demanded that he went to the Dursley's right away to find out where Harry was, but he didn't.

"You said so yourself that they wouldn't understand a boy like Harry. Perhaps it's better if another family raises him."

"But another family, other than a wizarding one won't understand him. He'll do accidental magic-"

"You'll be surprised at the lengths that muggles will go to to ignore what's in front of them. After all, muggle parents are usually shocked to find out that their own children are magical," Albus answered. "As I explained, the blood wards would have kept Harry safe in case Lord Voldemort should ever return. However, that may not be for a few years, and he would be safer from the man living with a muggle family, or at an orphanage then he would if we were to find him and put him with a magical family. It would not be kept secret for very long. Some of his supporters are still out there, and we do not want a repeat of what happened to the Longbottoms do we?

"No, Harry is safe where he is. He will be harder to find now more than ever. As you know, the Ministry picks up on underage magic, but they don't know who the culprit is unless they know who lives at that address. They'll assume it's just a muggleborn witch or wizard doing the magic who hasn't started at Hogwarts yet. We will not inform the Ministry what the Dursley's did however. It's safer for Harry if everyone believes that he is still with his aunt and uncle. If we tell them, they may want to investigate a little further to find out if it was Harry who did it. You know everyone will want to know as much about Harry as possible.

"I'll look further into the matter myself of course. However, once I find out where he is. I do not plan to tell anyone."

And so, the Dursley's plan went without a hitch. It wouldn't be for a while that Dumbledore would find out that magic was still performed time to time at Number Four Privet Drive. The Ministry of course would ignore any underage magic performed at the Dursley's because they believed Harry was still there. Without knowing the story, they wouldn't feel obligated to mention to Albus that for some reason magic was still being performed there. It was expected that an untrained wizard would have magical outbursts from time to time, so there would be no need to investigate.

* * *

A/N: Just in case anyone was wondering, this was taken from Accio Quote. JK Rowling answered in an interview in the year 2000:

**how does the Ministry of Magic find out these kids have powers?**

_A. The Ministry of Magic doesn't find out which children are magic. In Hogwarts there's a magical quill which detects the birth of a magical child, and writes his or her name down in a large parchment book. Every year Professor McGonagall checks the book, and sends owls to the people who are turning 11._

And in book 6, Dumbledore tells Harry that the Ministry doesn't know who cast the spell, just that a spell was cast. That was why they automatically blamed Harry for when Dobby smashed the pudding. They assumed that since magic was performed at Privet Drive, it was Harry.

So that's why Dumbledore isn't worried that Harry will be found in a muggle home or orphanage. And of course, since Dumbledore isn't going to tell the Ministry that Harry is missing, they won't find it odd that he has done underage magic sometimes. They won't care about it until after he's been at Hogwarts. So the Dursley's plan pretty much went without hitch... for a while anyway.

Next chapter will be back to Harry's point of view. I just wanted to write a chapter for people to understand exactly why Harry isn't allowed outdoors.


	3. They Just Don't Get It

For a few days, Harry had an idea but he was afraid to bring it up with his aunt and uncle. One morning, as he help his aunt clean he brought it up. He figured it was safer to ask her then it was to ask Uncle Vernon. He waited until he was at work, and Dudley was at school.

"Aunt Petunia?" He asked as he wiped down the table and she did the dishes.

"What?" She snapped.

"I-I was thinking," he began. "Maybe, maybe I could go outside when nobody will see me at night. Please?"

She didn't answer at first. They continued to clean the kitchen together. Harry didn't think she was going to say anything. Maybe she was just going to ignore his request. He didn't see what the harm would be if he went out when it was dark outside. If they let him go in the backyard, it would be safe.

"I don't understand what your fascination with outside is," she said after a while.

She didn't understand? She didn't know just how lucky she was. He couldn't remember ever being outside. His family could come go as they wanted. They didn't have to stay inside all the time. They took it for granted.

"You are probably the oddest child alive," she said. "Why do you want to go outside?"

"Just to see what it's like," he answered.

She stared at him and then rolled her eyes. He felt ashamed of himself. He looked away so she couldn't see the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. He tried to wipe his face without her knowing what he was doing. They worked together in silence for a while longer. Harry felt depressed; he had hoped that she would let him go out.

Later, when she got ready to take a basket of laundry outside she turned to him.

"All right, tonight when it's very dark outside, you can go in the backyard for a bit. I don't think anyone would be able to tell who you are that way. Not that they would know… they haven't seen you since you were a baby," she said.

Harry couldn't believe his ears. He pinched himself to see if maybe he was dreaming. When he realized that her words for real, he grew excited. As soon as his aunt was outside and out of earshot he let his excitement out. He ran into the living-room and then started to jump and down.

"I'm going outside! I'm gonna feel the wind! I'm gonna touch the grass! Yay!" He shouted as he jumped up and down.

Perhaps if it worked out that night, they would let him go outside at night more often. That thought made him squeal louder with excitement as he jumped up and down.

He decided that he would help his aunt out all day that day. Usually he didn't have to do too many chores. She would ask him to do the morning chores, and then he was free to do what he chose. That day, he would do anything she wanted. If she saw that he was a very good boy, she might decide to let him out more often. Maybe just _once_ he could even go out in the daylight.

When she came back in from hanging up the laundry, he hurried back into the kitchen.

"What else do you need help with Aunt Petunia?" He asked.

"Nothing else," she said. "Just go watch television. I think your educational shows are on."

He nodded.

"Okay, but tell me if you need any help with anything," he told her.

He went back into the living-room and turned the television on. He had a feeling that the day was going to be a very long one. He knew this was the best day of his life though. He was finally going to see what it was like to go outside.

* * *

  
At dinner that night, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia discussed exactly what the best time would be to take him out. His uncle believed it would be better to take him out at ten and no earlier.

"Most people will be in bed by then," he said.

"How long should we let him stay out?" She asked.

"I don't know. It's a warm night, so it won't hurt to let him stay out for a bit."

Harry grinned down at his plate. He didn't have shoes but that didn't matter to him. He would just go out in his bare feet. He'd be able to feel the ground with his feet. What did grass feel like anyway? Did it feel as soft as it looked? He knew what mud felt like. Sometimes Dudley tracked it in, so he would squeeze it with his fingers. He kept some in his cupboard, except it had dried so he had dirt instead. He didn't mind though, if he wanted mud again, he could just wet it.

When dinner was over, he helped his aunt without being asked to. Then he went to his cupboard when they were done cleaning. He knew sometimes his presence bothered his uncle, so he figured he'd stay out of the way that evening. He wanted to do anything he could to please his aunt and uncle. He turned on the light in his cupboard, and drew pictures of himself outside.

When he heard his aunt put Dudley to bed, he hurried out of his cupboard. He went into the kitchen to check the time. Nine-thirty. He sat down at the table and waited for her to come downstairs. He swung his legs excitedly while he waited.

"Why are you out here?"

Harry looked up to see Uncle Vernon standing in the kitchen doorway.

"It's gonna be ten soon," he answered.

His uncle walked over to him, he had a large smile on his face. Was he excited about it as well? Maybe it was hard for his aunt and uncle to keep him hidden.

"You're not going outside," Uncle Vernon said. "We decided it's too risky. Now go in your cupboard."

Harry stared. He was stunned. They decided not to let him go out? _No! _He thought to himself. He'd been waiting all day for this, and now they weren't going to let him out? His eyes started to prickle with tears. Why?

"Are you going to cry?" Uncle Vernon mocked. "You're just a pathetic creature aren't you?"

Instantly the tears were gone and Harry glared up at his uncle. He always knew that his aunt and uncle hated him, and he never understood why. However, he didn't know that they enjoyed it when he was upset. He knew at that moment that his uncle was pleased.

SMACK!

Harry stared up at his uncle with shock. He had never been smacked across the face in his life. If he was hit by his aunt or uncle, it was because he'd done something freaky and unnatural. They usually just gave him a very painful spanking that stung for days afterwards. His eyes watered with the pain, but he only grew angrier at the injustice.

"I hate you," he hissed.

Not once in his life had he uttered those words aloud.

"You hate me?" Uncle Vernon asked. "Oh I'm hurt now. Get this straight boy! You are nothing but a worthless burden. You will never get anywhere in life. You want to go outside? Don't worry, the day you turn eighteen you can go and never come back. You can live on the streets for all I care. We only have to keep your ungrateful waste of skin in this house until then. When that day comes, believe me, you can go out. Until then, you'll stay in the house. You're lucky we don't lock you up for good. We give you clothes, we give you food, and you can do whatever the hell you want inside. How do you repay us? You beg to go outside, and you tell me you hate me. Get in your cupboard. You can stay in there for a week, no meals."

Harry continued to glare at his uncle. Then he got up and headed for his cupboard. As soon as he was inside, he fell to the floor and began to weep. He cried until he heard Aunt Petunia calling for him.

"I found an old pair of Dudley's shoes-" she began.

"He's not going outside," Uncle Vernon said. "It was a bad idea, Petunia. You know he can't control that freakiness he has. He got so excited that he started to do it again. What if he did something and someone _did_ notice? It's just too much excitement for him. We can never let him out."

Harry's tears automatically stopped when he heard the lie. He wanted to leave the cupboard and contradict his uncle, but he didn't. The man was a lot bigger then he was. He had already slapped him across the face. What if he did something worse? His shoulders slumped forwards. Sometimes he wished he had died with his parents in the car crash.

* * *

  
Harry had plenty of paper. For some reason, Dudley always gave him blank paper that he snuck home from school. He never understood why because his cousin disliked him as mush as his aunt and uncle did. The boy wasn't the only one who gave him paper though, sometimes his aunt did as well.

So during the week that he was locked up, he drew pictures of his uncle getting hurt. The first picture he drew, it was the moment when he was slapped. After that, he drew pictures of himself getting back at the man. It helped vent his frustrations.

The drawings were a lot different than his usual ones. Usually he drew pictures of the Dursley's loving him, or of himself being outside. He was angry however, because he hadn't deserved the slap, and he didn't deserve to be locked up. He'd been a good boy all day, and he was punished for no reason.

As he drew the pictures, he wished he knew how to spell so that he could write how he felt.

When the punishment was over, he avoided his uncle as much as he could. Instead, he planned to ask Aunt Petunia if she could teach him how to read and write. He wasn't sure how well it would go since she told him all the time that she wasn't a teacher.

"Aunt Petunia?" He asked a few days after the punishment when he had his strength back.

"You're not going outside," she told him. "You blew it."

He was about to tell her the truth, but thought better of it because he knew that she wouldn't him.

"I just wanted to know if you could teach me how to read?"

As he expected, she snapped: "I'm not a teacher!"

He sighed, at least he had asked.

"Don't those educational shows tell you the letter sounds?" She asked. "I know you know the alphabet. All reading is is sounding out the letters."

He knew some of the alphabet sounds, but not all of them.

"Do you know the B sound?" she asked.

"Buh," he answered.

"What's the K sound?"

He told her the sound, wondering what the point to all of this was.

"All right, sound out B-O-O-K," she told him.

It took him a few minutes, but excitedly he said: "Book!"

She nodded her head and left the kitchen. She didn't praise him, but he knew that by her nod he had gotten it right. If he hadn't, she would have called him an idiot. He was glad that he knew a new word though. Why hadn't he thought sounding out the letters together before? The educational shows had told him that he could learn to read by sounding out letters.

Aunt Petunia returned after a while with a stack of Dudley's old books.

"These can help you," she said and she put them on the table.

He was surprised that she was going to help him out after all. As soon as he learned how to read, there would be a lot he would be able to do and learn. She opened a book and pointed to a picture of an apple.

"What is that?" She asked.

"Apple," he answered wondering if she thought he was beyond stupid.

"Underneath that picture of the apple is the word," she said. "I suppose you're going to have to learn how to read at some point. I'll do what I can to help, but I'm not a teacher."

"I know you're not," he told her.

"Then why did you ask me to help you to read? You really are an idiot," she said and he felt stung. "All right, I'll see what I can do one hour a day. I can probably help you with the basics of reading, writing and maybe some maths as well. You're not going to be here forever. The day you turn eighteen you're out of here. I guess you won't be able to be a complete idiot out there. Although I doubt you will find employment because you're useless. No one would hire someone with an IQ less than fifty."

All she really had to do was tell him that he was stupid once. He thought to himself angrily. He figured she had to have called him dumb at least three times in her last statement. Didn't she know that he knew that? If he was smart, then he likely would be able to go to school. He knew he was a stupid worthless unnatural freak. Why did they keep reminding him?

"Anyway, look through this book," she said pointing to the book that was still opened to Apple. "It goes through the alphabet. I'm sure you're not too stupid to figure out what each of the pictures are."

Harry sighed, couldn't she come up with something original for once?

"The other books will help you as well," she said. "Dudders doesn't use them anymore, so you may have them. Generally children who are four use these books, not seven-year-olds… and you're going to be eight this summer. How pathetic."

Harry tried not to cry. Instead, he began to look through the pages of the book. The next page showed a picture of a ball, with the letters B-A-L-L. He was confused. There was a lot more to reading then he though. The next page had a picture of a cat, and the letters C-A-T. He slowly sounded that out; he knew C could make two sounds, so it made sense to him.

Although his aunt had insulted a number of times in a row, he couldn't help but feel grateful that she was helping him.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to the readers and to those who added me to their alerts. In case anyone is worried, this isn't a Dark Harry story. He drew those pictures of his uncle, but that's because he was really angry. He's going to have a lot of emotional problems and some bitterness (how can he not?) but he won't go to the dark side.


	4. Not Stupid

She never knew that teaching could be fun. When Harry's eyes lit up because he understood something, she felt good knowing it was because she taught him it. She just wished that it didn't have to be her nephew that she was teaching. She was sure this was the very reason that people became teachers…

When Harry first asked if she could teach him how to read, she really didn't want to. In school, Petunia only got average grades. However, the moment when he managed to sound out the word 'book' she changed her mind. It was the excitement on his face that did it. Of course she hadn't wanted to let him know that, so she made sure not to praise him.

Harry was smart, and she had mixed emotions about it. It was nice that he learned quickly, but it was annoying because it was _him_. The child she resented, and didn't want in her home. However, she knew he was going to be off on his own someday… the day he turned eighteen and no later, so she figured she should help him out with the basics.

Though she originally planned to only spend an hour with him a day, she found it was impossible to do so. They usually spent the entire afternoon together. Not only was she teaching him how to read and write, she also decided to teach him basic maths. She wouldn't be able to teach him anything further than adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing though… maths had been a weak subject for her.

One afternoon, a few days after she began Harry's 'schooling' Dudley brought home a spelling test. While she signed it, she got the idea that she could also give her nephew spelling tests. The boy really wanted to learn to read and write, and she figured that would help. She was always looking for new ideas on what to teach him.

"Why are you even bothering?" Vernon asked one evening at dinner. "He is one of the dumbest children alive. You're just wasting your time."

"Yes, I am having a lot of difficulty with him. I know he's an idiot, but we can't just throw him out when he is of age without a basic education," Petunia answered.

Harry's head snapped up and he gave her a heart-breaking look before he looked back down at his plate. Tears started to stream down his cheeks. Just that day she had told him that he'd made a lot of improvement. She knew she was contradicting what she'd told him earlier, so she wondered exactly what he was thinking.

In just a few days, he managed to spell half the words in the alphabet picture book. She was impressed when he remembered how to spell apple.

"I don't really give a damn," Vernon said. "He's useless either way. He won't get a job without a real education. He needs to learn more than reading and writing."

"How come Harry don't come to school?" Dudley suddenly asked.

This surprised Petunia. Dudley had accepted without question when they told him that his cousin was a freak. He'd never asked before why Harry wasn't allowed outside, or why he couldn't go to school. The boy enjoyed picking on his cousin whenever he could. He would stand at the back door and taunt him.

_"I'm going outside… wanna come with me? Oh wait; you're a freak so you can't! Ha ha!"_

"We've already told you why Sweetums," Petunia said. "No one can know he exists. He isn't a normal boy."

Dudley stared at her for a moment, and then shrugged. He then asked for another plate of food, so she got up to prepare him some. She glanced at Harry, who she noticed was trying very hard not to cry. His eyes were watery, and he was quickly wiping away any stray tears. He let out a small sniffle.

"You haven't told anyone about him, have you Dudders?" Vernon asked.

"No," Dudley said.

When Dudley first started school, they worried that he would tell someone about Harry. He'd only been four at the time, and children often accidentally told family secrets. She was very proud of him when he managed to keep a secret at such a young age. Seven was still awfully young, and he managed not to let slip that he had a secret cousin. He was at the age where he often brought friends over, and he always remembered to check and see if Harry was in the cupboard before coming in.

"What I can't teach him, I'll just get an education video," Petunia said.

She wouldn't be able to teach him other important subjects such as History or Science. She was sure that there were video's he could watch though. He could also watch the learning channel if need be.

"We're not wasting money on that thing," Vernon said. "It doesn't deserve it. Do what you must do, but it's too stupid to understand what you're talking about anyway."

Tears were streaming down Harry's cheeks freely by that point. It always upset the boy a lot when Vernon called him a 'thing' or 'it' and he'd usually cry. However, she also saw him glare at the man with hatred, before he looked back down at his plate. He let out a tiny sob that everyone ignored.

Lately Harry had been showing defiance or hatred in his eyes, and sometimes that scared her. Would they always be able to control him? What would he be like as a teenager? At the moment, he was too terrified of them to do much. However, when he grew up would still have that fear? Would he disobey and go outside?

* * *

  
Though Dudley really didn't care much for his cousin, there were times when he did feel sorry for the boy. It had to be hard not to be able to go outside when he wanted. He wasn't sure what he would do if he was confined to the house only. He knew Harry must grow bored during the day.

It was very hard to keep the secret at times. Often he wanted to tell his friends about his freaky cousin, but he couldn't. There were a few times when he almost slipped up though. Usually his friends didn't catch it though. Sometimes his teachers would, and they would question what he meant. Dudley Dursley wasn't exactly a bright child, so it was hard for him to come up with a story.

Sometimes he really resented Harry. There were many times when he wanted to invite friends over, but couldn't. If he did, he had to make his friends wait outside just to make sure the freak was in his cupboard. There must have been something very odd about the boy. Dudley wasn't sure why his parents called his cousin a freak, or why no one was allowed to know he existed. It was very annoying though.

There were times when he resented his parents though. He didn't like having his cousin around, but did his parents always (his dad more then his mum) have to put the boy down? For some reason, if he noticed Harry crying after an insult, he would feel angry. This confused him more than anything since he wasn't supposed to like the boy.

Dudley wasn't sure about himself at all. He had a lot of mixed emotions about both his parents and cousin. He just wanted a normal family where there wasn't a person to keep secret. Why did Harry have to live with them anyway?

Harry's favourite pastime was drawing when he was locked in the cupboard. Dudley had realized that one afternoon when he'd peeked inside. So on the days he felt sorry for the boy, he would sneak paper home for him. His cousin drew a lot, and his parents locked the boy up a lot, so Dudley figured it had to get boring. There was always extra blank paper lying around in the classroom, so he would grab some on the days he liked his cousin. No one ever noticed or missed it.

When he found out that his mother was teaching Harry at home, it was a day he pitied his cousin. So he had asked his teacher what a parent would teach a kid if they were home-schooled.

"They would teach them what they need to know at their age level," she had replied.

He hadn't understood what that meant, so he had to ask her what she meant by that. It took her a few tries before he finally got it.

"What about a boy who is seven but never go to school ever? And he never learned nothing before?" He asked.

He was sure that she was confused about his questions, but she answered them as well as she could. When she mentioned that a person could learn by spelling tests, he wondered if he should mention it to his mother. Instead, he decided to take home one of his tests that had to be signed (normally he threw them out) to give her a small hint. It seemed to work.

The next day his teacher told him more ideas, but he didn't like his cousin that day. His farther had been in a bad mood that day because of the boy, so he kept it to himself.

* * *

  
Harry wished his family wouldn't call him stupid so much. He tried his best to learn what his aunt was teaching him. What annoyed him the most was that she would tell him that he did something correctly, but later she would tell his uncle that he was too stupid to learn. Why? He tried his best, and he thought he was catching on but Aunt Petunia always changed her mind later.

After a month of her teaching him, he could spell words and read some words, so it didn't make sense when everyone called him stupid. He would vent about it when he drew his pictures.

One evening, he drew a picture of his aunt telling his uncle that he was dumb. Underneath it he wrote: ant putoonea sed I wuz dum but i m not y duz she say it?

Another picture, he drew of himself crying because he'd been given a spanking for no reason. According to his uncle, he had done the freakishness, but he was sure that he hadn't. Under his sad face he had written: i got spanked (he learned quickly how to spell spank, spanked and spanking) and i do not no y unko vurnon say i do bad thing but i did not it rilly hurt and i m sad

Learning how to write opened up a new world for him. Instead of just drawing about his frustrations or his wishes, he was able to write down what he felt as well. He knew some of the words were probably spelled wrong, but he thought they were close. It didn't matter because he figured he'd be the only one to see them anyway.

When his aunt had told him that she would help, he'd hoped that maybe they could be friends. She was sometimes very nice to him during the day, but at night she would change her mind and insult him. All he wanted was for her to love him, but she wouldn't. He hated his uncle by that point, so he didn't really care if the man disliked him. However, he didn't mind his aunt so much. She didn't beat him.

In the mornings, she would tell him that they had to get all the chores done, or they wouldn't do his schooling. He always made sure to get it all done, and he made sure it was up to her standards. Though she rarely complimented him, he could always tell when she was pleased. In the afternoons, after they cleaned up after lunch, they would sit down at the table and work together for a few hours.

He struggled with subtraction, but she rarely called him stupid anymore when they were alone. It wasn't until his uncle came home that the insults started, and they would go on until he fled to his cupboard to cry.

The next day, he would try harder to impress her so that she wouldn't say something mean. He wanted more then anything for her to tell his uncle that he was smart. He wanted to prove to the man that he wasn't a useless nothing after all. He wanted to rub it in his face that he _was_ smart. His aunt made that impossible though when she contradicted herself.

One afternoon, they were working on subtraction again. She had a pile of pennies, to teach him.

"All right boy, there are ten pennies here and I am going to take away three. How many are left?"

He stared down at the group. She was trying to teach him to subtract without counting them. She just liked to use the pennies as a visual aid. Harry tried to think about it in his mind without resorting to his fingers, which he usually used secretly under the table when they used the number ten.

"Seven!" He exclaimed when he thought about his age. He remembered that he was turning eight in the summer… and eight was two away from ten.

"Right," she said.

She stared down at the pennies for a moment.

"I suppose you're going to have to learn how to use money as well," she said and sighed.

She left the table, and returned with her purse. She began to show him coins from a two pence, to two pounds. He felt a little confused when she started in on pricing for products, but he tried to keep up. It annoyed him when she switched from one thing to another. He'd been hoping they would continue with the subtraction. He was hoping she'd tell his uncle that he had done really well that day. The money confused him too much.

Uncle Vernon laughed at him later that night.

"He isn't going to need to know how to spend money anyway," he said when Aunt Petunia told him about their money lesson. "He's never going to get a job. He's going to be as useless as his worthless father."

Though Harry didn't remember his dad, it still bothered him when his aunt or uncle insulted him. He grew angry, and the plates began to rattle on the table. Dudley let out a squeak of fear, while both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon glared at him.

"Cupboard, now!" Uncle Vernon shouted. "You'll be getting it later. Then you're going to be locked up for three days, no meals or schooling!"

After the spanking was over, Harry drew a picture of his sad face again. His tears splattered on the paper while he drew.

"i wish i wuz not a bad boy Harry is sad i do not like spankings i did not meen to be a bad boy no skool for 3 days"

When he wasn't feeling as sad, he began to draw a picture of himself outside. Underneath it, he wrote: "sumday" and then he turned off the light to fall into restless dreams.

* * *

  
A/N: I used wikipedia to look up British coins, so I hope that was right. I am Canadian… so I go by dollars and cents.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. I have Dudley confused about Harry in this story because Harry is confined to the house only. In the books, he was allowed to go outside and to school. Plus, Dudley is still young. I think at seven, he is still young enough to feel sorry for his cousin, even if he feels resentment. Of course he is going to listen to his parents though. He still trusts them a lot, so what they say must be true. But he'd still probably wonder how it would feel to be locked up all the time. So I wanted to show how he felt sorry for Harry some days, but other days he resented him.

I used to volunteer in a first grade class (six-year-olds), and I noticed sometimes kids could be best friends with each other, but then the next day they could be enemies…

Of course Dudley's situation is different because of his parents, but still.

And I wanted to show Petunia's confusion as well. She resents Harry because of who he is, and the fact that he is magical, but she's also realizing he isn't as stupid as she says he is. He's actually learning, and she enjoys seeing him learn.

When I volunteered, I noticed one of the best things was when the kid understood something I'd taught them. There was one kid that I worked with every day with a book. When she sat there and read the whole book to me, I was proud of her, but pleased as well because I'd taught her how to read that book. It was one of the best feelings to know that the kid could read because of _me_.

Anyway, I want to try and make a closer Petunia and Harry relationship before he is taken away. So the next few chapters will show her starting to warm up to him reluctantly. I am thinking of making Dudley closer as well. He really won my respect in DH, so I can't hate him like I used to. He said what Petunia should have said. I don't think Vernon could ever change, but according to JK Rowling Petunia had wanted to tell Harry that she what he had to deal with and good luck. It just bothers me that she didn't say it.


	5. You Can't Break Me

Warning: Chapter contains a bit of physical abuse.

* * *

"I'm going to need your help in a few minutes," Petunia told Harry.

The boy was crouched down on the floor, and staring out the living-room window. It was currently raining out, and for some reason Harry enjoyed watching it. From his position on the floor, he could stare outside and not be seen. He looked up at her and gave a small nod before he looked back out again.

She didn't really need his help, but she always made him do chores anyway, even if her opinion about him was slowly changing. Petunia had never thought that she could care about Harry, but as each day went by she was starting to really like him. He was a bright child, and now she believed he trusted her. Usually he kept quiet, but he was turning into a happy chatterbox. She tried her best not to let him know she cared, but sometimes it was hard.

Vernon constantly told him that he was an ugly pathetic thing, but this was not true. Harry was actually a very adorable little boy. There was something exotic looking about him, but she wasn't sure what it was. She would never admit that to her husband though.

In the kitchen, she pulled on oven mitts to take a casserole out from the oven. Just as she was pulling it out, there was a terrible scream from the living-room. She stood frozen wondering what happened. There was another scream, and then a loud smacking sound, as if someone was hitting bare skin. Petunia rushed over to the counter to put the casserole down, and then threw off the gloves.

She rushed into the living-room and found Harry lying over Vernon's lap. Her husband was slapping the poor boys bare bottom very hard.

"What are you doing?" She shouted. "Stop it!"

"He was looking out the window!" Vernon answered; he was still smacking the boy who was wailing loudly. "Someone might have seen him from outside."

"The only way they could have seen him is if they looked right into the window!" Petunia shouted and she ran over to stop him from hitting the small boy.

Vernon shoved Harry off of his lap and stood up. As soon as he did this, she raised her hand back and slapped her husband. She had never done this before, but Vernon had no reason to hit the boy. She was not a violent woman, but she was angry, and he'd deserved that slap.

"Petunia?" He asked.

"We agreed that we would only hit him if he did the freakish nature! It's dark in this room, no one could have seen him unless they'd walk right up to our window. You had no right to do that to him. What did you do to make him scream?"

Vernon just stared at her in shock. They looked down at Harry who was curled up in a ball; he was clutching his right arm, and crying loudly.

"What did you do?" Petunia repeated.

"He bent his arm back."

Petunia and Vernon turned to see Dudley who was sitting in an armchair. She had not noticed him there earlier, and evidently Vernon hadn't either. The man had been upstairs in the shower before he'd spanked Harry.

"What if you broke his arm?" Petunia snapped.

She bent down and grabbed a hold of her nephew. She stood him up, and pulled his pants up before she lifted him into her arms. It had been years since she'd held him, and she was surprised by how light he was. He was going to be eight soon, and yet he felt as light as a three or four-year-old.

"I didn't break it," Vernon said in an annoyed voice. "I just bent it back."

"Twice?" Petunia asked as she examined his arm.

Luckily it wasn't broken.

"I picked him by his hair," Vernon admitted and looked away as if ashamed.

She was furious with her husband. She shook her head and carried Harry from the room. The boy hadn't deserved a beating, and she was also angry that her son had to witness the whole scene.

They had always agreed that the boy wouldn't grow up too abused. She knew that keeping him inside and insulting him was emotional abuse. They also beat and starved him if he did the magic. However, they didn't need to add anymore on top of that.

In the kitchen, she put Harry down on a chair and then moved over to the cookie jar.

"Eat this," she told Harry when she found a chocolate chip cookie. "You don't have to help me tonight. Just calm down, and eat that cookie. It shouldn't spoil your appetite."

She turned to walk away, but his tiny hand grabbed hers. She turned to look at him; he stared up into her eyes. She knew, even though he didn't say anything that he was thanking her. She gave him a small nod and slowly he gave her a watery smile. She gave a tiny smile back before turning away quickly. She felt confused but glad at the same time.

* * *

Harry glared at his uncle while he served him his breakfast. If he'd hated the man before, he hated him more now. He was sure that there was nothing that Uncle Vernon could do to redeem himself after what he'd done the night before. He'd been a good boy, and yet his uncle had hurt him for no reason at all. He could never forget that.

"Get me a cup of coffee," Uncle Vernon snapped at him.

"Yes your majesty," Harry muttered as he walked back over to the counter.

He'd been surprised when Aunt Petunia had taken his side for once. He would never forget that either. He was starting to really trust and love her. He had a feeling that she loved him as well. If she didn't, she would have let his uncle continue to beat him.

"Here, I can get it," Aunt Petunia told him as he reached for the coffee pot. "Just get Dudley's breakfast ready."

After Dudley left for school, and Uncle Vernon left for work, Harry and his aunt worked together silently in the kitchen. He couldn't stop thinking about the night before. How he'd been watching the rain, and then suddenly his arm was twisted behind his back.

She loved him. The realization sent warmth through him, and for some reason he wanted to cry. What had changed? Was it because they spent a lot of time together? Was it because she realized that he wasn't a bad boy? Why did she care about him now, and not when he came as a baby? None of it made sense to him.

He also knew that his uncle was afraid of Aunt Petunia, which was comical in a way. His aunt was a tiny woman, and Uncle Vernon was a huge man. He could hurt her in a second if he wanted to, and yet the man was terrified of the small woman. All she had to do was glare at him, and his uncle would do what she wanted. What power did she have over him?

"There is a documentary on about dinosaurs," Aunt Petunia told Harry who was deep in his thoughts. "I can finish up in here. Why don't you go and watch it. It's on channel fifty-two."

"Okay, thanks," Harry murmured and he handed her the dish cloth that he'd been using to wipe down the counter.

"I managed to get some math sheets from Dudley's teacher," Aunt Petunia continued. "This afternoon I'll get you to work on one."

Secretly, Aunt Petunia had bought videos about dinosaurs so he could learn about them. He knew she was trying to find anything she could to teach him what he should know. His uncle really didn't know what movies they owned, so it wasn't hard to keep the secret.

"Dudley should know these as well," she had once told him when she brought home a video.

Harry would never betray their secret. It felt good to finally have someone care about him. He just wished his aunt would care enough to realize that he wanted outside. He often wanted to show her how pale he was compared to his cousin, but he didn't mention it. He was also shorter than Dudley was, and they were the same age. They would both be eight soon, and yet he very short, while his cousin was at least two heads taller.

Later that day while he worked on his math problems; Harry realized he could escape beatings from his uncle. Aunt Petunia had stood up for him once, she would do it again. That meant if he wanted to, he could actually stand up to the man. He'd always been to scared to do so. Now he knew the agreement between his guardians. They weren't supposed to hurt him unless he did something freaky.

A small smile spread across his face. His uncle wouldn't be able to hurt him forever, and someday the man would pay.

* * *

A few days later, Harry was able to test his theory. He worked at the kitchen table one evening, before dinner on another worksheet his aunt had managed to get him. Aunt Petunia wanted him to have work to do in his spare time. He was struggling with it because it was subtraction, but with double digit numbers instead of single ones.

"Does it hurt your little head to do all that work?" Uncle Vernon when he noticed what Harry was doing.

He walked over to Harry and stared down at one of the problems he had completed.

"How the hell did you get that as your answer?" He asked as he stared at the problem. "Sixteen from twenty doesn't equal sixteen!"

Harry stared down at the problem. He knew that you couldn't subtract anything from zero, so the answer _had_ to be six. What else could it be?

"You are one of the dumbest children alive," Uncle Vernon said and he laughed.

Harry narrowed his eyes and glared at the man.

"I'm not dumb, I'm just learning this! Aunt Petunia told me I am doing a good job. Now go away and leave me alone!"

Uncle Vernon looked shocked for a moment, and then he looked around the kitchen quickly. He must have decided it was safe because he clenched a hand into a fist and swung it to hit Harry's face.

CLANG!

Uncle Vernon began to swear as he clutched his fist, which had struck some invisible barrier. Harry stared with his mouth open. He was sure he'd done something, but he didn't know what. All he knew was that he'd concentrated on preventing his uncle from punching him.

"You little-" Uncle Vernon started to say but Harry jumped off his chair.

"You leave me alone!" Harry yelled. "You're not always going to be able to hurt me. I'm not always going to be small. Stop trying to hurt me! Aunt Petunia said you can only hit me if I do the bad stuff!"

"Just what is going on in here?"

Aunt Petunia hurried into the room, she looked furious. Harry figured that his uncle would tell her about the invisible barrier, but he didn't say a word. He just glared at him and then continued to massage his fist.

"I punched the table because your nephew is an idiot. He thinks sixteen from twenty is sixteen."

Harry wasn't sure what had happened, but he decided to go along with his uncle's story. He didn't want to push the man too far. He just climbed back onto his chair and pointed out the math problem to his aunt.

"You can't take anything from zero," he said to her.

He saw his aunt glare suspiciously at his uncle, before she walked over to explain to him why it was wrong. He tried to keep from smiling; he didn't want to push his luck. He knew he'd won this round, but would he always be this lucky?

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has been reading, and adding me to alerts.

I decided to have Harry have trouble with a zero with subtraction because I remember that was something some of the kids struggled with. They know you can't take anything from zero, and they also had math problems like six subtract zero, and they knew the answer is six. He hasn't been doing math for very long, so he struggles with it.

Just a warning for the next chapter. It's going to be sad. I'm not going to have anymore physical abuse, but there will still be emotional abuse, especially in the next chapter. This chapter was originally longer, but then I cut some stuff to put into the next chapter. I wanted this one to go with the title. The next chapter is started on though.


	6. Why Does Anything Matter Anymore?

One Saturday afternoon, Aunt Petunia decided Dudley needed a hair-cut. Harry wasn't looking forward to this. He knew he was going to have to spend the day locked up in his cupboard. They would never leave the house without locking him up first. As he served lunch, he was surprised to hear that Uncle Vernon was staying home.

"We shouldn't be gone longer than a few hours," she was saying to Uncle Vernon. "The boy can finish cleaning the kitchen."

Dudley was busy sulking at the table. He didn't like getting his hair cut. Harry thought he was lucky. Aunt Petunia usually cut his hair herself, and she wasn't very good at it. At the moment, it was long so he figured she would be hacking it off any day.

"Can I get a new toy too?" Dudley asked. "After my haircut? And ice cream?"

"Sure Poppins," Aunt Petunia answered. "We'll stop by the toy store and you can pick something out."

Harry climbed into his chair after he'd served lunch, and nibbled on his cheese sandwich. He would give anything to be able to go into a toy store. He'd seen them on the telly, but that was it. What would it like to go into a store and pick out a brand new toy? He let out a small sigh and took a drink of his water.

He looked over at the window. One of these days he was going to risk a beating and run outside. He couldn't stand to wait much longer. His aunt and uncle told him he could go out when he was eighteen, and never come back, but that was still almost ten years away. He was determined to go out sooner though. He didn't want to betray his aunt's trust, but he figured she'd be the easiest to escape from.

It wouldn't be something he could do without a plan though. Perhaps he could even manage to go out without his aunt or uncle noticing.

"You can do the dishes, and then clean the table and counter," Aunt Petunia told him after lunch. "I have another math sheet you can work on after you do all of that."

"Why do you like doin' maths and stuff?" Dudley asked him. "I don't like it. I don't like homework or extra work."

"Most children don't," Uncle Vernon said wearing a smirk. "Your cousin is an abnormal pathetic freak. He's an idiot as well."

Harry started to grind his teeth together, but he didn't say anything. He was so tired of being called, stupid, dumb or an idiot. He knew he wasn't, otherwise he wouldn't be able to learn. Aunt Petunia had told him that he learned very fast. He stared down at the table and blinked back furious tears.

After his aunt and cousin left, Uncle Vernon went into the living-room to watch television. Harry worked on the dishes still very angry. One of these days, his uncle was going to regret being so mean to him. He would do what he could to pay him back for every mean thing said, and every undeserved beating.

As he was drying the dishes, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Feeling chilled, he looked over his shoulder and saw his uncle smirking at him. He glared at the man and turned away. _You can hate me all you want, but your wife loves_ Harry thought to himself.

"So, you feel smug because you've turned my wife against me?" Uncle Vernon hissed as he moved closer. "You think you can hurt me with your freakish powers?"

_Don't rise _he told himself. _He wants an excuse to beat you._

He ignored his uncle, and put a plate into the cupboard. The man stood behind him until he was finished. As he turned to climb off his chair, he was grabbed by the shirt. Uncle Vernon had his face only inches from his own.

"You're nothing but a disgusting, foul, stupid waste of skin," spit flew into Harry's face as Uncle Vernon spoke. "If it weren't for your aunt and I, you'd be living on the streets. When that man tried to kill you-"

Suddenly his uncle let go of him. He looked as if he were angry with himself.

"Someone tried to kill me?" Harry asked as he wiped the spit off his face.

"No!" Uncle Vernon said. "Forget I said that."

Harry climbed off the chair, and moved it back to the table. He didn't take his eyes off of his uncle.

"You're lying. You said that by accident. Who tried to kill me?" He asked.

His uncle's face went red and then purple, then he let out a sigh. He sat down onto a chair and beckoned for Harry to come closer. Was he going to learn the big secret? He'd always known there was something secret about himself, but he didn't know what.

"Your aunt will be furious with me if I tell you this. We were planning to tell you when you were older," Uncle Vernon said. "You're not even eight yet… we were going to wait until you were seventeen or so."

Harry forgot his hatred for a moment and waited with bated breath.

"There is a reason why you have that scar on your forehead," he continued.

"From the car accident when my mummy and daddy died," Harry whispered.

"Yes. What we didn't tell you was that it wasn't an accident. Your parents knew you were an abnormal freak when you were a baby as well. One night, they were very tired of having you around. So your father tried to kill you in the car, but you see, your parents were as dumb as you are. So they didn't realize just how stupid their plan was, the end result was that your father died instantly. You and your mum were rushed to the hospital. Your aunt and I went to visit her. Her last words to us were that you could never go outside again. She told us to tell you this when you were old enough to hear: 'Harry, you are a worthless nothing, and you killed your father and me. Our deaths are your fault. I hate you,' and she wanted us to lock you up in the house forever."

Harry shook his head trying to deny what his uncle had just said. The man hated him; of course he would make up that lie. According to his aunt, he was left on their doorstep after his parents deaths. She didn't like to talk about her sister, but once she had told him that his mother had loved him a lot.

"No," Harry said. "My mummy and daddy loved me. They never wanted to leave me. Aunt Petunia said I was left on the doorstep."

"Of course she did," Uncle Vernon said and he laughed. "Your aunt is a good woman. She didn't want you to know the truth until you were old enough to understand. However, I think since you're going to be eight soon, you are old enough."

"No, you're a liar," Harry said. "They loved me. They wouldn't try to kill me."

He didn't know a lot about cars, but he did watch the News a lot. He knew that babies were kept in car seats. There was no way his parents would try to kill him in a car accident. He tried to point this out to his uncle who just laughed.

"Your parents wanted it to look like an accident, you stupid child. And didn't I just tell you that they were idiots as well? Of course they didn't realize they could kill themselves as well, but you know what your mother also told us? She said she preferred to die rather than be your mother," he said with an even bigger smirk.

"No," Harry said shaking his head.

"Your aunt told you that the first time we met you was when we took you in. That was a lie. We were there the day you were born. Usually parents are very excited about having a child. When your aunt first saw Dudley, she cried from happiness. When your mother first saw you, she cried because she was disappointed. She wanted to just leave you in the hospital. Your parents knew you were a freaky abnormal thing the moment they set eyes on you-"

Harry continued to shake his head as his uncle talked.

"Your father tried to abandon you that day, but the doctors forced your parents to take you home. Your parents told us that your birth was the worst day of their lives. You think you have it bad now because you can't go outside? Your life was spent in a cage before your parents died."

Harry had promised himself that he wouldn't cry in front of his uncle, but he couldn't help it. He felt the warm tears run down his cheeks. He didn't want to believe it. It couldn't be true. His parents had loved a lot. He was sure the man was just lying to make him feel bad about himself.

"Why else would we keep you locked up?" Uncle Vernon continued. "Why do you think you can't go to school? We told your parents that we would take care of you until your eighteenth birthday."

Harry sniffled and let out a hiccough. "If they hated me, why did they want you to take care of me? If they wanted me dead, why would they care?"

His uncle's story just had to be a lie, because the thought that his parents wanted him dead…

"Your mother wanted us to help keep you from being seen. Even though they are dead, they would be upset if they knew people knew you existed. They were planning to kick you out the day you were eighteen, and so now we have to take on that responsibility. We promised we would keep you hidden until that day," Uncle Vernon answered.

"But- but why eighteen? If they didn't care if I died, why didn't they get rid of me?" Harry asked.

He knew babies were helpless, and they couldn't take care of themselves. Why didn't they just get rid of him on the street?

His uncle seemed to falter for a moment, which gave him hope that it was all just a terrible lie. The man hated him…

"Someone would have noticed a child on the streets and they would have taken you in. It's up to a family to hide the disappointment and failures. It wouldn't have been right to force a stranger to take care of you. As soon as the stranger took you in, they would have to keep you. Eighteen is when you're an adult, and adults take care of themselves. Children can't be expected to take care of themselves."

"I'm not bad," Harry said.

"You don't believe me? Maybe I will tell your aunt that I decided to tell you the truth after all. She's going to be very upset that you forced me to do this. You've earned your aunts trust, but I guess you are just a selfish useless boy. You don't care about your aunt at all do you? She spends all of this time teaching you, and this is how you want to pay her back? Are you willing to let her know you betrayed her? All right, I'll her that you know the truth when she comes home."

Harry stared at his uncle, there were still tears flowing freely down his cheeks. His aunt and uncle _did_ keep him inside all the time. Why else would they if there wasn't something wrong with him? Before he had earned his aunts trust, she would insult him daily. He looked down at the floor and hiccoughed again.

"No," he denied. "Please. You're lying. My parents loved me."

"Well, if you want your aunt to tell the story that upsets her, be my guest," Uncle Vernon said. "The worse day of your aunt's life was when she lost her sister, and had to take _you _in. Now you want her to relive it."

Harry sank down to his knees sobbing hard, he murmured no over and over again. His parents hadn't loved him. His uncle had to be telling the truth. Talking about his mother always upset his aunt, and they wouldn't let him outside. He lay down on the floor and clutched his knees to his chest. He'd always felt good knowing that his parents loved him… and now he realized that they hadn't.

"You'd better finish your chores," Uncle Vernon said. "And stop crying. I don't want my wife upset. If she finds out I told you… well, it will be you who suffers the consequences."

Harry heard the man leave the room. He tried to calm himself down. No, he didn't want his aunt upset. She was finally starting to love him. It wouldn't be right to force her to relive a bad memory.

When he finished cleaning the kitchen, he went into his cupboard to draw some pictures. He wasn't in the mood for doing his math problems. In fact, he didn't care about doing them ever again. Why did it matter? His parents had hated him. He didn't want to care about anything ever again… except maybe keeping his aunts trust. She had saved him from his uncle after all. He couldn't upset her.

_My mummy and daddy hated me. I m a stoopid werthliss thing. Unko virnon wuz rite. I m sad._

_

* * *

  
_

Something was very wrong with Harry, and Petunia wasn't sure what. It was starting to scare her though because he wouldn't talk, he wouldn't eat, and he wouldn't drink. He gave up on working on his school work. In fact, he wouldn't leave his cupboard at all. Vernon threatened to beat him because of it, but she wouldn't let him.

By the third day, Petunia was panicking because she wasn't sure how long Harry had gone without liquids. She went to his cupboard after Dudley and Vernon left to force him to eat and drink. When she opened the door, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. The boy had obviously not gone to the bathroom either, instead, he messed himself.

"Come on Harry, this is enough, and disgusting," she told him as she lifted his limp body out.

He was a light boy, but because of his dead weight, she struggled to lift him into her arms. He stared at her with dull green eyes.

"You're going to have a bath, and then you are going to have something to drink and eat," she told him.

He didn't say anything; he just laid limply in her arms while she carried him up the stairs. She tried to ignore the smell coming from his clothes as she undressed him. While she ran the water into the tub (Harry laid on the floor unmoving) she took the dirty clothes down to the wash.

She hoped that Harry would wash himself when she put him in the tub, but he wouldn't. In fact, as soon she let him go, he allowed himself to slip under the water, so she had to hold him up.

"What is wrong with you?" She asked him after she had him cleaned up. "What happened? Why are you so upset?"

He just stared at her blankly as she dried him off with a towel. Once she had him dressed in clean clothes, she carried him back downstairs, and into the kitchen. When she sat him down into a chair, he sat slouched forward. Tears were streaming silently down his cheeks.

Vernon had obviously done something, she decided as she filled a cup full of water. She put a straw in the cup, and then carried it over to Harry. He was still sitting forward, with his arms hanging by his sides. She sighed and held the glass of water in front of him.

"Take a small sip but do it slowly," she told him. "You need some liquid. You're likely very dehydrated. People can't go a long time without water."

He didn't move to drink the water. He just continued to stare ahead with tears running down his cheeks.

"Come on Harry," she said. "Drink."

It took about a half hour of coaxing, but she managed to get him to drink slowly all of the water from the cup. When that was done, she made him a bowl of cereal, which she ended up having to spoon feed him. She was just relieved to get something in his system. She wasn't sure how long people could go without drinking something, and Harry was so small.

"Can you please tell me what happened?" She asked Harry. "Did your uncle say something to you?"

Slowly Harry shook his head. Knowing she wasn't going to get anything from him, she picked him up from the chair, and carried him into the living-room. She sat him down on the floor (where he fell over onto his side) and turned the television on for him. Once that was done, she headed to the cupboard so she could clean it out.

As she pulled his blankets, and the thin mattress out, she noticed Harry's drawings. He had a large pile of them in a corner of the cupboard. She forgot about the cleaning for a moment to look through them.

_Harry is a kreecher _

_Unko virnon say mummy and daddy hate me_

_Harry is sad_

_I m a bad boy mummy cried cuz she did not wont Harry_

_Daddy wonted to kill Harry_

Petunia stared down at the drawings. Most of them showed a sad face over the writing. Did Vernon tell Harry that his parents hated him and tried to kill him? She was going to have to have a long talk with her husband. How could he be so cruel to tell a seven-year-old boy that his parents hated him, and they wanted him dead?

She picked up the drawings, and carried them into the living-room. Harry was still on his side, he hadn't moved an inch.

"Harry, can you tell me what you mean by these?" She asked.

She showed each of the pictures to her nephew, but he didn't respond. He just curled himself into a ball.

"Did your uncle tell you that your parents wanted you dead?" She asked.

"No," Harry answered in a hoarse voice.

She didn't believe him. Where else would he get that idea from? Why would he be so depressed?

"Well, if he did, I want you to know that it's a lie. Your mother wrote me once and a while and her letters were always about you," Petunia told him.

She and Lily hadn't really kept in contact with each other, but if she did get a letter from her sister, it was always about Harry. Her sister had been so happy to have her own child to raise. And the woman had sacrificed herself for the boy. She remembered reading that in the letter that had been left with Harry.

When Harry didn't answer, she got up to go clean the rest of the cupboard. It was going to have to be aired out just to get rid of the stench of urine. While she cleaned, she heard shuffling from behind her.

"I didn't mean to betray you," Harry said in a hoarse voice when she turned to look at him. "I know my mummy and daddy hated me. I know they wanted me dead. I'm sorry that you have to remember it again."

"What are you talking about?" Petunia asked. "Your parents did not want you dead."

"Uncle Vernon said my daddy tried to kill me and that's why they were in a car accident. They wanted to kill me in it. Daddy died right away, and mummy died in the hospital. She told you that she hated me and you should lock me up forever."

Petunia stared. She was furious with her husband. Weren't they doing enough damage to the child? Why was he adding more to it?

"No, Harry," she said. "Your parents were killed by a drunk driver. Somebody drank too much alcohol, and hit them. They both died right away, and you survived. A friend of your parents dropped you off on our doorstep. I don't know why Vernon told you that, but it's a lie."

Harry stared at her with a look of such hope, she wanted to give him a tight hug, but she didn't.

"He lied?" He asked.

"Yes, Harry, it was a lie. I'll talk to Vernon tonight," she answered.

He walked over to her; his face went pale as he moved. She was sure he didn't have much strength in him.

"I wanna go outside Aunt Petunia, please let me out. I can go away and never come back," he pleaded.

"You're seven, I can't let you live on your own," she said.

Harry started to cry and he fell to the floor.

"I wanna go outside! If I'm not bad you would let me out. If it's not a lie you would let me out. Please Aunt Petunia, please!" He yelled.

She sighed. If he asked her of anything else… a toy, a treat, one of the bedrooms upstairs, she would say yes. She couldn't let him outside though. That was one thing she couldn't do for him.

"I'm sorry Harry, you can't go out," she answered.

Harry started to cry harder than before. She sighed. She would bake some cookies that afternoon. Maybe those would cheer him up.


End file.
